


Arrival by Post

by oneatatime



Category: Kamen Rider Decade, Samurai Sentai Shinkenger
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 19:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: Aware of Ryuunosuke materialising at his right shoulder, Takeru said, “Hello, Tsukasa.”





	Arrival by Post

**Author's Note:**

> The main ship in this is Tsukasa/Shinkengers, with background Tsukasa/Natsumi/Yuusuke/Daiki.

Takeru pelted around the side of the mansion. The alarms were going off, but it wasn’t an attack, just something very odd. It was better than an attack, but he was still very sick of very odd somethings. 

“Ippitsu soujou!” 

He transformed as he ran, boots crunching on the gravel. His armour shimmered into place around him as he reached the bottom of the stairs. With his Shinkenmaru resting on his shoulder, he inspected the long cardboard box on the tiles at the top of the stairs. 

It wiggled. There was a note on top. 

_SEE YOU IN A WEEK.  
SORRY. _

…………………Oh, no. 

Takeru climbed the stairs and nudged the lid of the box open with the point of his boot. He let his armour fade. The bound and gagged man inside glared up at him, then had to screw his eyes shut against the sunlight, warm against Takeru’s shoulder. Takeru took a step to the left to shade his face. It was a far from unattractive face, for all that the man wore a decidedly grumpy expression. Dark, dark eyes. Reddish hair. 

Aware of Ryuunosuke materialising at his right shoulder, Takeru said, “Hello, Tsukasa.” 

* * *

“If you’re here, then you’re going to work,” Genta told him cheerfully. “That was the arrangement with Natsumi-chan for each time we steal you away from Daiki!” 

“Tch.” Tsukasa inspected the ingredients Genta had laid out in the mansion kitchen. Mackerel. Rice. Various spices. Oil. Wasabi. Red peppers, avocado, limes, oranges, and for some reason strawberry Pocky. “You should be grateful to have the majesty of my presence.” 

“If your majesty can start peeling the onions, then that will be majestic!” 

Tsukasa picked up an old carved peeler and began to work, companionably enough with this noisy guy who was actually quite restful. He noticed after an hour or so that one of the twinges at the base of his neck had eased. 

* * *

Kotoha was small, but she was violent. Tsukasa looked up at her from the ground with a new respect. He’d only seen her hit things before. He hadn’t felt it. He could hear Takeru, Ryuunosuke and Mako still working off to the left. The rhythmic sound of the ‘ha!’s and the training swords hitting the training dummies was quite relaxing. 

“Are you all right? I have a poultice I can make-?”

“I’m fine.” 

She grinned down at him, and offered her free hand to help him up. Due to the height difference, she nearly went somersaulting over his head, but Chiaki and Genta grabbed her as their paintbrushes clattered to the ground. 

* * *

“You’re his only boyfriend who arrives by post,” Chiaki said, eyes dancing. Tsukasa found himself laughing. It wasn’t much of a laugh, but it was still a laugh, and he noted Takeru looking up even as Takeru reddened at Chiaki’s comment. 

Tsukasa took his time sipping his tea, then asked lazily, “Are you my boyfriend, too?”

“Only if you’re good at video games.” 

Jii harrumphed at them all and told them to shut up and eat, and Tsukasa subsided willingly enough. It wasn’t right for this man to think he was in charge! But the food was good, and there was no sea cucumber. The service was excellent. 

Tsukasa decided, an hour or so later, that he liked being Chiaki’s boyfriend too. Chiaki was obnoxious, but quite cute when he got really into whatever stupid shoot ‘em up game this was. Tsukasa spent time button mashing and then telling Chiaki in a lordly way just how good he was, and Chiaki spent time throwing popcorn kernels into both their mouths. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon, right up until Chiaki had to report for training. He went along, too, for lack of anything better to do. (And definitely not because Chiaki told him he was expected.) 

* * *

Mako took him shopping for Natsumikan’s upcoming birthday. She didn’t ask his opinion about any of it, just dragged him into this shop and that one, and gave him two boxes and one bag to carry with some kind of long blue scarf, a cute little hat, and a stuffed unicorn.

“Do you want a crepe?”

“Yes, with-“

“Here you go.” 

She didn’t let him choose, but strawberries and cream was good enough. She was nearly as cranky as Natsumikan. 

* * *

“ShinkenRed.” 

It was quite nice, the repetition. He let his mind tune out for a while. 

Takeru, Ryuunosuke. Mako. 

“…Shiraishi Mako!” 

Chiaki. 

“...Yellow. Hanaori Kotoha!”  
“The same, Gold. Umemori Genta!”  
“The same, Magenta. Kadoya Tsukasa.” 

Kneeling to Takeru sure was a trip. He could feel Takeru’s eyes on him, though Takeru continued the roll call as smoothly as always. Tsukasa grinned inside his own helmet, as he did the pose that he’d totally just made up, and hadn’t spent some time thinking about earlier. 

Ryuunosuke confronted him afterwards. If he’d had to guess, he probably would’ve guessed that it’d be this one. His eyes flashed, and his shoes clacked on the walkway. The man was apparently not as tense as he used to be, according to Chiaki, but he was still as picky as a small child with a nostril. “You joined us today!” 

“Mm?” Tsukasa folded his arms and leaned back against the railing around the training yard, raising an eyebrow. 

“You have guest status here, but if you’re going to do that, then at least behave as befits a samurai,” Ryuunosuke said furiously. “Tono requires certain standards!” 

Tsukasa unexpectedly found himself going through twenty minutes of actual samurai training. Natsumikan would give him so much grief if she saw this. 

* * *

“I still don’t know if you should risk my presence.” Tsukasa rolled onto his back, hands pillowing his head. He didn’t want to think about how easy it was to actually let the façade drop a little. To let a little of his genuine concern out, here, with this man, in this mansion, in this world. 

“We have discussed this multiple times, and it is late. You will train with me at dawn tomorrow. If anything goes wrong – which is unlikely – then we will address it.”

Tsukasa frowned, wanting to argue that. He was the Destroyer of Worlds, right? And his power was near infinite. The Gedou Rider that had formed previously was an actual, tangible thing. Not something that he’d made up by stressing. 

Except… except it was quite nice to not be in charge in any way whatsoever here, with these people who were all competent. It was quite nice to know that this world, this mansion, the man in this bedroom with him, all continued quite well whether or not he was here. He wasn’t needed to destroy or to save. 

But he was wanted. All the threats of violence - 

“Sleep, or I will smother you,” Takeru said wearily. 

\- such as that one, never meant that they actually didn’t want him. 

Tsukasa hmmmed for a moment, as if he were seriously considering smothering as an option. Takeru growled under his breath, and Tsukasa held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll go quietly, officer,” he said. 

Takeru was bossy in quite a different way from Natsumikan, or Yuusuke, or that other irritating one whose name Tsukasa couldn’t be bothered to remember. Takeru tugged at him without any acknowledgement of who he was or just how quickly he could obliterate his entire house. He shifted Tsukasa’s shoulders back and to the side, and slid his legs under the covers properly. He got Tsukasa arranged in what was obviously a pleasing enough way for him, then tucked himself in behind. 

There was a surprisingly possessive arm across his stomach. Soft breaths against the back of his neck. The bed with its red and black covers was comfortable enough, though nowhere near as fancy as Tsukasa would have as a samurai lord. 

The most comfortable thing was the samurai lord pressed up behind him. 

To his great annoyance, Tsukasa found it very easy to fall asleep. 

* * *

By the end of the week, there was a little more lightness in Tsukasa’s step. A little less shadow to his eyes. Takeru wondered yet again whether Natsumi-tachi sent him over here for their sake, or his. It did not matter, in any event; Tsukasa was even more obnoxious than Chiaki, and Tsukasa was also a part of the family. Not a samurai. But part of the family. 

Natsumi opened the door to the photo studio, and Takeru nodded at her. In turn, she looked more comfortable than when she had called, six days previously. 

“I don’t need a guard,” Tsukasa said to Takeru for the third time, but there was a smile on his face, and his tone was soft. Takeru put out a hand and gripped his shoulder briefly.

Natsumi said cheerfully, “No, only a babysitter. Welcome home.” 

* * *

Takeru sat on the walkway, his first time alone in quite some time, and let himself laugh. 

“ShinkenMagenta. _Really!_ ”


End file.
